Anyone who writes for a living, no matter how meager, knows
well how quiet this life can be most of the time, and not all interruptions are
good ones. When the mailman arrives in the early morning, he brings excitement.
The dog leaps up barking madly. My husband calls out, What's all that? What
happened? I rush to the door and collect the mail, which is usually nothing
more than a flyer for a new pizzeria in town. The mailman used to bring letters
from friends living on the other side of the country, or invitations to a
wedding or a party. The mail used to bring connections to the larger world. But
now we have email. Today the mail delivery brings hubbub, so if I want a real
connection with the world, I go to the post office.
This week I went to the post office twice. Yesterday I
mailed off a ms to a small press, in hopes they'd be interested in something
different from my usual book. Before I could leave the small building, which is
barely the size of a one-room house, a former colleague arrived. We hadn't seen
each other in almost two years, when we both left the field of social services
to do other things. We fell to chatting about our current lives. He wrote and
now leads tours titled Scary Stories of Salem. And if you think he's wasting
his time and should get a real job, let me tell you that his tours for only one
month brought in almost as much as he made in a year, with a full-time job.
Salem is full of tourists.

Ken and I talked about his tour and by the time he was
finished I was full of ideas. Why not develop a tour about writers in Salem?
After all, Margaret Press writes police procedurals set in Salem, and Brunonia
Barry writes a paranormal mystery series set there. The idea has legs, as they
say. I left the post office looking forward to an invitation to take Ken's new
tour later in the year.
Today I headed off to the post office to mail a package and
an envelope. Only two people work at my post office, which is so tiny that it
closes for lunch every day because there are no screens on the business window.
But in exchange, we get great service.
Today I went with the wrong size box, and the agent helped
me figure out what I needed and how it should be done. I don't mind being
stupid in my post office. The package contained the manuscript of a new Anita
Ray that was going to a beta reader outside Seattle. She doesn't like reading
on her computer, so I send paper.
While I was transferring the unbound ms from one parcel to
another, another patron asked if it was a ms. Do I write? Well, yes, I do. And,
well, so does he. The author of numerous children's books, John Kelly teaches
creative arts at Endicott College. We commiserated over the many changes in
publishing over the years and the new courses being offered at the college.
I had come to the post office to mail a manila envelope. This
was my most important task for the day, perhaps the year. This contained my new
contract with Five Star/Gale, Cengage Learning for the fourth Anita Ray mystery.
I had negotiated a couple of changes that delighted me, and I was eager to get
on to the next step. Off the envelope went.
And because I am a writer, after each encounter I could feel
a little something brewing, a fiction made by sifting the anecdotes and phrases of recent encounters, and pulling out a couple of gems that could be worked into a story.
The postmistress and I feel exactly the same about winter and spring and various other aspects of nature. As we congratulated each
other on surviving the winter, she showed me a photo taken on her phone of a
red-tailed hawk that had been tracking a squirrel on her roof. The squirrel got
away, but she got a great shot of the hawk perched on the edge of the roof
staring down into the gutter looking for the squirrel.
I'm willing to give up letters from friends arriving in the
mailbox every few days, or months, and I'm willing to put up with the dog going
bonkers once a day when the mailman arrives. I'm willing to put up with rising
costs in postage stamps, and I'm even willing to accept the removal of the
corner mailbox. I'm willing to do all this as long as I can keep my one real
connection to the world--my tiny, one-room post office.
If you'd like to see more photos of the varied post offices
throughout the country, go to
http://colossus-of-roads.blogspot.com This is a link to the website Going Postal: A Photojournal of Post Offices and Places, maintained by Evan Kalish, who kindly allowed me to use his photo of the Prides Crossing Post Office, 01965.
http://colossus-of-roads.blogspot.com This is a link to the website Going Postal: A Photojournal of Post Offices and Places, maintained by Evan Kalish, who kindly allowed me to use his photo of the Prides Crossing Post Office, 01965.